Don't
by Sleepy Lotus
Summary: Always, tension abounds between Eric and Sookie. This series of vignettes will loosely follow the episodes of season 3, centered around the theme of "Don't." Eric/Sookie.
1. Godric

**Don't**

**By: Sleepy Lotus  
**

**Part I: Godric  
**

_This is absurd. _

The human Sookie Stackhouse had a way of turning Eric's night upon its head. Making him feel unsure of himself, in ways he had not doubted in centuries. Vulnerable, in places he'd thought walled off from the world for longer than this country had been in existence.

Here she was, sitting before him, tears rolling down her pretty cheeks as she told him of the efforts she'd made to find Bill. The mark of the _Nazi werewolves_-it sounded ridiculous, but not far enough from the mark for comfort.

Bill. The thought of the spineless twerp made his lip curl with disgust, and even more so that this beautiful creature belonged to the Civil War veteran, and not to him.

Not for long, if he had anything to do with it.

He could tell as her face fell into even further despair that Sookie thought his disgust was meant for her; her love and tears for her missing vampire. Would be fiancé, had he stuck around to hear the _yes_.

Also absurd, and thank Odin he hadn't.

"Please don't do that," he found himself demanding, softly. "It makes me feel disturbingly…_human_."

Sookie gulped a deep breath-the walls between she and Eric towered high once more. One could almost forget that not so long ago, they'd shared.. . something, between them. A night of understanding -an almost sickeningly innocent exchange of comfort.

She'd gone to him after Godric died. In the beginning, because she'd felt she owed Godric that much, for saving her from her would-be rapist. Obligation, nothing more, she'd told herself. It had _nothing _to do with the fact that Eric intrigued her, with this newfound vulnerability. This dumbfounding love for a being other than himself.

She'd liked it better when she thought him callous, shallow, despicable, mean, selfish… god damn it if it wasn't so cut and dry anymore.

He'd heard her approach, no doubt, but made no move to hide the runnels of blood tears from his cheeks. "Eric?"

The vampire rolled desolate blue eyes up to hers, all the more brilliant in the contrast against the blood. "Godric is gone." His words fell empty, broken, and Sookie's heart broke for his loss. And so very gently, she kissed his forehead, a small hand cupping his jaw. Eric's hand went to cover hers, holding her living warmth to his skin. "What are you doing here?"

"I told Godric I would take care of you."

Eric laughed at the absurdity of the notion. But she delivered with such sincerity; everything was so urgent to mortals. He found that somehow, in that moment, he felt grateful for that. He clung to it; if a blood drinker so great as Godric could lose his grip on the years, choose to give them all up to the sun, what was keeping _him _rooted to this world? "Did you now? Even after the way I tricked you? After the bomb?"

Licking her lips nervously, Sookie stepped closer, running fingers through Eric's hair. He closed his eyes to the blissful sensation of that simple contact; her gentle fingers and thundering heartbeat soothed him indescribably. "I've been thinking about that," she admitted.

"Yes?"

So had he. And in this moment, he wanted Sookie Stackhouse to be his more than ever.

"And it was an underhanded, dirty thing, Eric."

"Yes," he agreed, yet did not apologize. Still, he also did not seem particularly proud, or even smug.

"But I also wonder if you haven't freed me a little."

The vampire's eyes flew open, startling her with their intensity. "What are you saying?"

Her fingers continued their motions through his hair, almost absently enjoying the texture through her fingers. "Bill fed me his blood from almost the first night we met, Eric. Now, I'm left with so many questions, about _everything_. Is anything of what I feel for him real? Is _this _real?" She felt suddenly dizzy as she cupped his face with both hands, staring into his eyes in search of answers.

"This is _very _real," he assured her, placing his other hand over hers. "It _has _to be." Suddenly unsettled by the emotion in Eric's voice, she began to draw away, but quick as lightning he caught her hands once more. He drew her back down to him, and she went without a fight, as a moth goes to the flame. Lightly he kissed her, taking comfort in the contact, the simple, universal act of touching lips with another. Though a thrill coursed through her at his touch, Sookie sensed that for once this vampire didn't seek to seduce her. He simply sought _her._

And yet, he too seemed unsettled by their proximity. It was so easy to tease her, to infuriate her, to make innuendos at every little thing she said. But this, perhaps, let the little telepath a little too close to home. His safety depended on those around him believing him to be a powerful and invulnerable vampire. Stone cold. What would happen to him, now that Sookie knew different?

"Perhaps you should go," he suggested, even as it pained him deeply to say so.

Sookie understood this shift, all too well. Understood that he was stonewalling her once more, remembering the person she knew him to be. Up until a night ago, she'd had no idea that it was a persona. A mere facet of the vampire Eric Northman.

"No, Eric, don't do this."

"It's past dawn, Sookie. I'm tired. Please…"

"I know what it's like to lose someone so important to you, Eric. My Gran meant everything to me. She taught me so much, protected me, loved me more than anyone, accepted me for exactly who I am-when she died, a little piece of me went to the grave with her. You shouldn't be alone, after losing someone like that in your life."

Eric regarded her with a weighty gaze, and Sookie suddenly stood very aware that he'd lived nearly a millennia longer than her. "Are you offering to coddle me?" he asked, making one last attempt to send her on her way with sarcasm, before he felt certain he would cave.

Lifting her chin defiantly, Sookie kicked off her shoes, and crawled onto the bed. He watched her with a tired amusement, as she settled against the headboard in her pretty sundress. She was a ray of light in the shadowy room. And when she crooked her finger to him, he found he couldn't resist her. Eric lay upon her breast, long arms wrapped about her body, and it was a sweet relief to hold her life so close to him. An anchor in the storm-he wouldn't blow away, she wouldn't let him.

"And when your Gran died, Sookie. Who did this for you? Bill?"

A heartbeat passed in silence, her fingers pausing in their trail over his bare back. Two heartbeats, three, before she finally answered, "No."

"Your brother?"

"No."

"Your smart-mouthed friend?"

"No, Eric." There was a fragile note in her voice, and though he sensed it pained her the vampire felt the need to pursue this mystery.

"Who then?"

The telepath remained silent, and he realized that no one was there to comfort her at the time she needed it most, in the way she truly needed. "Lafayette gave me some valium to knock me out, which was nice, I guess," she finally blabbered in her friends' defense. "I had a good cry over Gran's last pecan pie. And then everything sped on, somehow, with Jason going to jail and Renee trying to kill me-"

His voice cut through her tirade, surprising as it was certain. "I should have been there for you. I failed you, as everyone else around you always does."

Sookie pressed her lips with surprise. "You didn't know," she tried to head him off.

"I did know. I am sheriff, Sookie. It is my business to know everything. I'm sorry."

Sookie froze, taken completely by surprise, as was Eric himself as the words fell from his mouth. And they were genuine. It had been a long time since he'd extended anything genuine to a human, outside of a threat.

Tears began rolling down Sookie's cheeks, a place still so raw upon her heart prodded painfully by their discussion. She'd thought she could be the strong one for him, in his hour of need, but perhaps she'd bitten more off than she could chew. Sensing he'd upset her, Eric pulled her down to nestle in his arms. Stranger yet, she let him.

"Your heart is so pure," he whispered in her hair, a note of wonder in his tone. "Most humans would be so bitter, in your situation. Alienated from the humanity around you because you are more than them; because you know their every stupid thought. I don't think I've ever realized that you are nearly as alone as I am."

Sookie shifted to nuzzle into the hollow of Eric's neck. "You're saying that _we're more alike than I think, you and I_," she tried to make light of their solitude, even as it tore holes in her heart to do so.

"Something like that, yes."

"You aren't alone, Eric. You have Pam."

"Yes. But who else?"

"I don't know. I don't know who you keep close to you."

"I had Godric. But no more. And what of you? Who is left for you, Sookie Stackhouse?"

She had plenty, she reasoned. Tara and Lafayette, though both kept their distance, of sorts. Sam who loved her blindly. But just that-blindly. It was sweet, but not what she wanted. There was Terry-crazy, PTSD'd Terry, bless his heart… Jason, of course! Her selfish, Adonis of a brother… And then there was Bill… Bill, who for which every feeling she'd ever felt might just have been a lie.

"I don't want to talk about it," she murmured, cuddling closer, and Eric felt very content to have her in his arms. They lay in silence for several minutes. It was nice to have someone, who with silence did not weigh uncomfortably. Sookie wondered if this sense of content was due to the blood she'd ingested, or simply because Eric really understood better than anyone.

"You should get some rest," she finally sighed, sitting up on an elbow. Tenderly she cradled the side of his face, brushing a lock of blond hair behind his ear. "Tomorrow is another night."

He found it amusing that she would remind him; he who knew better than anyone.

Suddenly unwilling to relinquish Sookie just yet, he rose to lean over her, pushing her back upon the bed. "Stay with me?"

Sookie pressed her lips nervously, though he could clearly read the urge in her to stay put. "Bill will be livid with me as it is."

Eric gave a wry smile, and she could see the Eric she knew very well peeking through. The vampire so full of bravado and himself that nothing else could get through. Yet there was something endearing in it; almost cute, in small doses. "Bill doesn't have to know. Leave before dusk, take a shower to wash my scent from you, and he'll be none the wiser."

"So sneaky, Mr. Northman."

"Or simply go to him, bathed in the scent of my skin. Tell him you've changed your mind, that you are to be mine." His lips curled in a dangerous smirk. The way the snake must have smiled at Eve. Crazier yet, it seemed like a good idea.

Now that _definitely _had to be the blood talking.

She hoped.

"A girl just can't belong to herself, around you vampires, can she?"

"We are possessive," he admitted, without a shred of shame or apology. His fingers moved to trace the veins upon her neck and chest distractedly, inspiring a damning thrill of desire to shake Sookie's spine. "But there _are_ benefits."

"I'm all _too _aware," she assured him, pushing his hand as it began a lower course to her cleavage.

"Are you? When all you have known is Bill? A bi-centennial weakling?"

Sookie felt suddenly glad for their banter; Eric obviously felt better. Not healed, not yet, probably not ever. A loss like that never completely heals, only scabs with time. With a roll of her eyes she taunted, "And you're so different, blah blah blah, a thousand years of experience, etcetera etcetera, amen."

In the end, she stayed.

Eric fell asleep with her warm body tucked against his, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd ever felt so complete.

The next day, it was as though nothing had ever happened.

Bill suspected, but did not know, and would not accuse. Sookie went back to acting as though she hated him. He almost would have believed it, could he not feel her in a secret place over his heart from the blood. Once, they'd shared a brief glance of longing, but the moment dissolved as Bill turned back to her, and they went on as though it had never been.

He hadn't seen her since, until the night Pam led her down into the basement to find him mid-coitus with his Estonian stripper. Not exactly the reunion he'd hoped for. He found himself agreeing to try and find Bill-he himself had wanted to collect the annoying vampire, for his own reasons. The twerp knew of the vampire blood dealing, and needed a stern talking to, at the very least. The thought of administering other persuasions curled a cruel smile upon his lips.

"Wow," she'd said with such disdain, looking about the drippy basement, the chained stripped, trying to train her eyes anywhere but his manhood raised proudly in salute. She was not shocked-but certainly disdainful. Bored, with the cruelties of the vampire world. It shamed him a little, to see that look in her eyes. She glowed in the gloom in that lavender dress, a breath of fresh air wherever she went. "You sure know how to treat a girl."

She'd turned on her heel to go, but he caught her with a single long finger hooked in hers. "I would be so good to you, Sookie," he whispered. "You would _never_ see this place."

Sookie raised a skeptical eyebrow, even as her heart skittered about in her chest. His eyes glittered like silver moons in the darkness, terrible and beautiful, and she forgot for a moment Bill, and how to say no.

But she was a fighter.

"Find Bill," she'd finally demanded, and stormed up the stairs.

So there they were, together once again at his bar. A sense of foreboding gripped Eric as he thought on the implications of these werewolves in his territory. He'd gone to great lengths to exterminate a nest of them during the second great war, even so far as the distasteful act of posing as an SS officer. With Sookie involved, somehow the stakes raised even higher.

She attempted to staunch her tears, eyes cast downwards. Just because they'd shared that one, blissfully forbidden night of innocent comfort, didn't mean she would expect anything of him now. She knew better, with vampires.

_Good, it isn't her place to_, his first voice growled, even as the one he rarely listened to these days, the voice closer to his heart and soul, demanded he make things right. She'd come to him in his time of need. For the sake of honor at the very least, he should do the same.

His large hand hovered over hers, reluctant, and Sookie watched wide eyed with surprise. And when it finally settled, engulfing her little paw in his own, both felt a certain sense of relief. A tension washed through them that neither quite understood. Brown eyes met blue, and Sookie's heart flipped at the raw intensity of the vampire's gaze.

"_We'll find him_," he promised softly, and her fingers laced with his, suddenly reluctant to ever let go.

But then Pam and the annoying new vampire Jessica came out from the little girls' room, with fucking _perfect timing, _and Sookie bolted up from her seat, eyes cast downwards once again. He could feel her guilt-having warm thoughts about him while Bill was missing unsettled her conscience.

"Thank you," she said hurriedly, and in the blink of an eye, she was gone.

**A/N: So, whatcha think? I'm playing with the idea of doing a series of these, maybe one for every new episode, to play up the scenes between Eric and Sookie. Between Charlaine and Alan, they never **_**quite **_**give us what we want, do they? Grrr… Well, at any rate, reviews are greatly appreciated!**


	2. The Porch

**Part II: The Porch**

**A/N: Greetings! I want to thank everyone who left a review, you truly make my day! As you can see I've decided to continue this. Though they're all published in the same bundle, I'm not sure these vignettes are necessarily connected as a story. More like, this is how Season 3 would be, scene by scene, if I were queen…lol. If you haven't noticed, this chapter moved the rating from T to a decided M. Enjoy!**

"I'm still Bill's," the telepath insisted nervously, even as her heart pounded in her chest, barely managing to keep a longing to reach out to the Viking vampire at bay.

Disdainfully, Eric glanced down at the diamond glittering upon her finger. "I see you wear his ring. But I also know you have doubts. You're probably only wearing it out of a misplaced sense of guilt. If you hadn't gone to the bathroom, scared out of your mind that Bill wanted to enter so ridiculous a bond as human marriage with you, and as well you should be, I might add… Do you really think you could have stopped the weres from taking him, Sookie?"

"I came out of that bathroom with _yes _on my lips, Eric. No matter how you try to twist things, that's the truth."

The vampire's own lips curled in a sneer, and he backed away from Sookie, pacing as a tiger in a cage. "To love and to cherish," he spat. "To have and to hold. Till death to us part.. .Sookie, you'll be the only one who's dying! Growing old and feeble, as he does not change…It's not going to work!"

"That's none of your concern! It's between Bill and I."

"It is of my concern," snarled Eric. She found it curious that the thought of her marriage to Bill seemed to drive him to distraction.

"Why?"

Hooking a finger beneath her chin, Eric turned her gaze up to meet his. "Because you should be with _me_."

Sookie's lips parted slightly with surprise, taken completely off guard. Usually his declarations implied his desire for possession of her. _Be mine, Sookie_. But to be _with_ him-it was just different enough to throw her for a loop. Eric took advantage of her pause, leaning down towards her lips, intent on stealing a kiss.

But a noise inside the house interrupted, turning both their heads. A breath away from Sookie's mouth, Eric's fangs descended. "Invite me in," he growled.

Though she didn't exactly want to, Sookie realized the threat.

"Mr. Northman, won't you please come in?"

Eric stalked through the front door, snarling at the intruding werewolf. Sookie followed close behind, and did not hesitate to sight down her arm, firing once. But Eric, requiring a live prisoner, struck her hand, sending the shot wide.

Before she could protest it was practically over. A scuffle on her living room floor. A yelping wolf, then Eric atop a naked man, bending his arm in a painful submission.

"Who sent you?" demanded the vampire, but to no avail. There was more questioning, frustration, horrible memories. In the end it was the Viking who gave in to his temper, ending the were's miserable life by ripping out his throat.

"That went well."

Eric did not appreciate Sookie's sarcasm.

They buried him in a fresh grave. Ingenious, Sookie had to admit. Of course, Eric had a few years to devise effective methods for disposing of a body.

"If there's even a possibility Bill's in Jackson, I have to go, Eric."

Eric walked beside her in silence, slowing his long-legged gait to match her shorter strides. Blood covered his mouth, the front of his shirt.

"You'll be a fool to go, but I doubt I can dissuade you."

Sookie climbed a step of the porch, bringing her _almost _eye-level with the towering vampire.

"Not a thing in the world you could do to stop me."

"There's _plenty _I could do to stop you," Eric corrected. "But nothing that wouldn't leave you _very _cross with me in the end."

"Like that's ever stopped _you_."

A wry smile curled Eric's lips.

"Will you know, if I'm in trouble, across state lines?"

"Yes, though I won't be close enough to do much good."

Sookie backed up the stairs, but found the vampire following her, three stairs at a time effortlessly.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Protecting you. The sun has not yet risen, and there could be more werewolves afoot."

Sookie sighed. She didn't want to let Eric in, because-she _wanted _to let him in.

But she was a sitting duck alone in the big house in the middle of the woods, and she knew it.

"Where will you sleep?"

"Where does Bill sleep?"

"A hidey-hole in my closet. But I'm not sure you'll fit."

"I'll make do."

Sookie crossed her arms, certain this was a _very _bad idea, yet somehow feeling helpless in her course.

Maybe it was the blood.

Or his beautiful eyes.

Or his…_god damnit, Sookie. _

"Fine. Come get yourself cleaned up, then."

Smiling as the cat who ate the cream, Eric followed after her into the house.

As he used the master bathroom, Sookie slunk down the hall to the other, reasoning he couldn't bother her while busy cleaning himself. She wrestled with herself-it was a hot summer night, and she wanted to wear one of her usual, light nightgowns, but wasn't sure Eric would take it the wrong way. In the end she settled on one of her oldest, rattiest gowns. The lace at the neck was curled and frayed, a small hole in the skirt. So what if it still set off her tan, and the skirt was a little on the short side?  
"Sookie?"

Heart in her throat, Sookie turned to find Eric towering behind her, clad only in a towel wrapped about his trim waist. He was ridiculously beautiful-how dare he ambush her like this? Powerful shoulders, broad muscular chest, and an abdomen she could have washed clothes on… Water still beaded upon his skin, glittering in the moonlight, and she felt a sudden urge to lick it away.

Clenching her jaw, the telepath resisted.

Eric lifted a hand towards her cheek, but Sookie held up a hand.

"Don't."

The vampire, naturally, did not listen, pressing her small hand above his heart. "Why? Your desire perfumes the air, Sookie, I can taste it."

"You tricked me into drinking your blood-I can't help it."

"You wanted me before you drank my blood. It's only made things a little more…interesting." His fingers trailed over her arm; a trail of gooseflesh followed like the tail of a comet. "So if you're so opposed to passionate, primal sex, why don't we try slow, steamy lovemaking?"

Angry, though mostly at herself, Sookie pushed away from Eric, turning her back on him. "What do you know of _lovemaking_?" she demanded hotly. "You, who chains women up in your basement?"

Eric kissed the side of her neck, causing Sookie's knees to tremble. With a long arm wrapped about her waist he pulled her against him, and through the damp towel she could feel his swelling desire. The memory of the sight of it flashed before her eyes, as tall and proud as he. "I can be gentle, Sookie," he whispered against her skin, lips trailing down her shoulder. "Tell me what you like."

She turned in his arms, and found herself being steered towards the bed. "I like…" She faltered as her knees hit the side of the mattress, and she fell rather unceremoniously into a sitting position. As Eric leaned over her, she declared, "I like a vampire who can behave like a _gentleman_."

Eric paid her a wicked smile that caused things low in her belly to clench, and Sookie couldn't help but wonder, _is it over for me already?_ Her skin ached with the desire to be near him, to touch him. It was _painful _to be so close, and not in contact. Sensing the breakdown of her defenses, the vampire leaned forward, taking her mouth with a slow and probing kiss that left her legs turned to jelly. She barely noticed as he picked her up, scooting her farther onto the bed.

"I can be a gentleman," he insisted, trailing hot kisses down the line of her neck, pulling the shoulder of her nightgown aside to scrape the round of her shoulder with blunt teeth. Lower, lower he went, and as he pushed the skirt of her nightgown up around her hips, he sighed against the skin of her thigh, "_Ladies first_."

Sookie's back arched almost violently as Eric's tongue slipped past her underwear, and one long stroke laved her slit. She sat paralyzed, torn between the desire to run, and to never _ever_ move from this room with him again. As he became confident that Sookie'd run out of protests, at least for the moment, he quickly relieved her of panties, and tasted her once more, groaning for the heady heat of her sex against his mouth. One long finger slipped inside her, then two, stretching her maddeningly as he pleasured her.

Skilled but gentle as he'd promised, he worked her to the edge of orgasm, tongue and lips slowly exploring her, teasing the bundle of nerves between her legs to the point of insanity. "_Oh God Eric, please," _she begged, and he took mercy on her, bringing her with a final few strokes of the flat of his tongue. She came with a cry, fingers gripping the bedspread, and Eric watched her with a joy for giving pleasure he hadn't felt in years.

It was as he crawled to lay beside her, licking his fingers clean, that Sookie covered her eyes with her hands, the diamond of her engagement ring glinting in the moonlight upon her left ring finger. "_Oh no_," was all she could say, even as her heart thundered in her chest, small spasms still riding out in various muscles across her entire body. The towel had come loose from about his waist, and only the nightgown remained between his bare skin and hers.

Through the bond Eric could sense the immediate flood of embarrassment and guilt that coursed side by side in Sookie's system with extreme contentment and curiosity. Torn, was the little telepath. He decided at that moment that he wouldn't make love to her that night; she wasn't ready. Not the way he wanted her to be.

But he didn't mind stacking the deck _just a bit _in his favor.

Her earlier words, _I'm still Bill's _echoed in his mind.

_Not for long_, he answered smugly.

_ This is only the beginning. _


	3. Truth

**Part III: Truth**

A tapping upon the window roused a half asleep Sookie. Her eyes were swollen and red, her throat raw, her shoulders sore. It was the aftermath of a sorrowful hurricane; she'd been sobbing off and on for the past six hours. No more tears remained, she'd cried them all. Now, there was only emptiness, a hollow dark place inside where her heart once had been.

Sookie looked up to the tall windows half-heartedly; too tired to remember she was upon the third floor of Alcide's apartment complex, and that someone lurking outside should have been impossible, outside of employing rock climbing equipment.

Or, flying.

For there Eric hovered, peering inside with a neutral countenance.

Inside, he felt triumph, having a feeling he already knew the cause of the little human's sorrow. He'd felt it from miles away, the blood bond tugging at him like a fish upon a lure.

But as he watched her, the slow way she rose from the bed, moving as though she'd received a physical beating, a puzzling new emotion ambushed him. Out of left field, there was pity, and a desire to see her smile once more. Compassion, he thought with disgust. Was this a result of their bond? Faint though it was, he wondered if the telepath's inherent empathy, her _painfully _good heart, was not wearing off on him.

"Eric, what are you doing here?" she asked, voice void of any emotion. Strange, for her; usually their encounters came peppered with extreme swings of emotion, lust and anger the two most prevalent.

"I felt your pain, and I came to you." It wasn't a lie. "Invite me in?"

Sookie bit her lip, reluctant on principle.

But in light of certain events, what did she have to lose? She'd lost the person who'd meant most to her. Her first love, Bill Compton, threw her away like an old sock for that harlot Lorena. Like she meant nothing. Maybe she was nothing, she mused fatalistically.

Everyone else seemed to treat her that way too, unless they wanted something from her.

She wondered what it was exactly Eric wanted from her. Why would he come in light of her sorrow? She wasn't in danger, just heart broken. Why would he care?

"You can come in," she sighed, unlatching the window.

Eric ducked through it, as though it was an action he'd executed thousands of times. How many windows had this vampire visited, over the course of his long life? Probably too many to count.

"I didn't know you could fly." She wanted to be amazed, but couldn't quite muster anything past mild interest. Everything seemed dull to her, next to her pain.

"There are many things you don't know about me."

He stepped in close, but made no move to take her in his arms. Like a snake he waited, entirely still, only his eyes moving as he watched her. Sookie fingered the claw necklace that hung between his pectorals, wondering if he'd killed the animal himself. A flash of images hit her as her fingers grazed his chest.

_A rocky beach, waves rolling as far as the eye could see, gray as the sky above them. Children running, waving sticks, waging war the way young boys do in any century. _

"I know you played by the North Sea as a child," she deadpanned, tucking the claw back into his black shirt. She inhaled deeply, her palm upon his powerful chest. "You even smell like the sea."

He felt like the sea too, she mused, as he studied her suspiciously. For beside him, she felt small and mortal, where he was eternal, timeless, relentless. She could allow him to crash upon her, again and again, until he wore her down to nothing. The sea could rend boulders to tiny grains of sand; what chance did she stand, in her soft mortal shell?

Eric cupped her face in his large hands, scrutinizing her with ancient eyes. The years of his experience bore down upon her, in the weight of his gaze, and she fought not to squirm. "How do you know this?" he asked quietly.

"I can _feel_ it," she answered, knowing no other way to explain it. "I can taste the sea on your memories. Children warring with sticks on the beach, watching the horizon, waiting for their fathers to return home from a-Viking."

Her words tweaked a secret place within Eric, deep within his soul. He'd buried his memories of life as a mortal man long ago; he tried not to think on them. Such things could destroy a vampire his age, the press of so many years could drive one to madness.

"I didn't know you could read vampire minds, Sookie. This is a dangerous thing for you."

"Are you going to hurt me now?" she asked disinterestedly. "Make me be quiet with these big vampire hands of yours?"

An eyebrow quirked, challenging him, and Eric couldn't help but think she was fucking with him. The thought amused him, at the very least. His hands delved into her hair, taking fistfuls of the spun gold so similar to his own. "Maybe we should just keep it between us?" Eric whispered above her lips.

"Our ace in the hole?"

"Something like that."

"Bill just broke my heart for another vampire, Eric. What makes you think I want anything more to do with y'all anymore? Maybe I'm done."

The vampire smiled against her mouth, but did not close the distance, releasing her from his grasp so suddenly she nearly stumbled.

"So you admit you're up for grabs?"

"I am a _person_, Eric Northman, not a sack of money left on the side of the road. You're not grabbing anything."

In a huff, finally angry, she sat down upon the bed.

An infuriating smirk curled Eric's lips, and brazenly he sat down beside her, an arm about her waist. "We'll see about that," he whispered in her ear, pulling her closer.

Sookie lost no time in pushing his away, even as his nearness set her heart to race. "Don't," she warned hotly, and in a way it was a relief to see _some _sort of emotion from the telepath. Her earlier stoicism had been eerily off.

Ignoring her insult, Eric kicked off his shoes, leaning back upon the pillows. The scent of her tears perfumed them; the smell of loss and sorrow.

But also, of opportunity.

"If I were to tell the _magister _of your little ability," he mused in a singsong voice, "He would order me to put you to death. Or he would keep you to use as a lie detector in his trials."

"You _are_ threatening me." A thrill of fear unfurled down her spine. Maybe she'd felt numb before, but in the end, there was always self preservation. "So let me guess. Now you have a price for your silence."

She looked upon him with such an expression of disgust Eric's heart sank, just a little. His face made no indication of it though, cool and amused as ever. The mask he wore for the world, perhaps for so long he'd nearly forgotten it was only a mask. But Sookie, this fiery little telepath, was reminding him of other things he felt inside. That there could be more to life than power, fear, and sex.

He wasn't sure how he felt about that. Resentful, maybe. A little confused. And he _longed_, more than he had for anything in centuries.

"No, Sookie, no price," he sighed, suddenly feeling tired of the world. He held out his hand to her, and she eyed it warily, even as she battled inside with the urge to take it. To curl up against him and try to forget about Bill.

"How…unlike you," she finally answered, clasping her hands tight in her lap.

"Maybe there's more to me than what meets the eye? So now you know I grew up on the shores of the North sea. What else?"

Sookie weighed him carefully in her gaze. Was this another trick, coaxing her to further incriminate herself? But he already knew. How much deeper of a hole could she dig?

Oh, miles deeper, surely.

But still, she felt compelled to play his game. She surprised herself, with her desire to know him. The inscrutable Sheriff of Area 5, man of mystery and tight _tight _leather pants… So she reached out, stroking his longest finger with the tip of hers. It sent a tickling thrill of pleasure across his skin, and his fingers flexed with the urge to grab her up.

She closed her eyes and concentrated, but nothing came to her. Eric was expecting her now. Whether he meant to or not, the vampire's mind walled her out.

She shook her head with a mournful smile. "It doesn't work like humans," she tried to explain. "I only get flashes from you at best, when you've let down your guard. So you see, I wouldn't be much use to the magister after all. He would get angry, and torture me, and then I would just lie out of desperation…the truth doesn't come easy, no matter what you do, Eric."

He knew that very well, and was impressed that the young woman had come upon the wisdom so early in her life. At times like these, she seemed far older than her mere 25 years.

"No, it certainly does not. It's a precious thing, isn't it?" The telepath felt he spoke in code, but couldn't quite be sure what he alluded to. She paused in studying him, and he took the opportunity to clasp her small hand in his, tugging her towards him gently. "Come here, Sookie Stackhouse. I'll tell you something true."

Sookie gave in, curling up next to him, her head upon his muscular chest. There was a sense of relief in it, and she wondered if it had something to do with the blood bond. "I'm not sure if I can stand anymore truth tonight," she admitted sullenly. "I think Bill's done me in for a while."

"What did he say?"

"That vampires only bring suffering upon humans, and that he'd just made love to Lorena, of whom he left me for…" Bile rose in her throat at the thought; the pain and jealousy made her feel physically sick.

"He does not deserve you, Sookie. Now, you are free to be with a better vampire."

Sookie rolled her eyes. "I thought you said you would tell me something true?"

Eric smiled wolfishly. "Hmm. Something true…" He caught her lips in a unexpected kiss that curled her toes, pulled a groan from her throat and sent a damning curl of heat to simmer between her legs. Breathless, she pushed back, and Eric announced matter-of-factly, "I _want _you to be mine."

Even stranger yet, he suspected that he wanted to be _hers_. He wanted to be _known_ by her, he wanted more than fucking in a drippy basement with a fangbanger. He wanted to make love to her on the soft sheets of his king size bed, and _this _truth unsettled him more than any other that night.

Truth _was_ a precious thing.

It was also powerful, and terrifying, and at that moment Eric wondered if he should have anything to do with it.

He was a vampire, after all.

Lying came _so _easy.

But easy was boring, and immortality was too long to be bored for much of it.

At that moment, Eric decided he would take the difficult road, the way he had many times before.

Eric glanced down at the telepath who lay so very quiet in his arms. Curled against him in complete comfort, surprisingly content with his strong arm around her, she stared into space, wheels grinding behind her beautiful blue eyes.

No, she wouldn't make it easy. He could see it clear as day.

And the victory would be all the sweeter.


	4. Bet On Sookie

**Part IV: Bet On Sookie  
**

Exhausted, Sookie curled upon the bed in her cell. An opulent one, in the mansion of Russel Eddington, but a prison all the same. She'd cried, and screamed, and tried all the doors and windows. She'd examined every possibility her frantic brain could conjure for escape, but in the end found one and only one way out of this room. The front door, and _that _was guarded by a burly werewolf.

An hour passed, two, three, until she felt certain the sun must have risen. An eerie quiet settled upon the house, a stillness brought on by daylight only in a vampire's residence.

Her eyelids heavy, Sookie nearly fell into a troubled sleep, when a tiny creak across the room caught her attention. She watched with surprise, as a panel in the wall lifted and slid to the slide, revealing a secret passage way.

And her heart filled with loathing, at the sight of the towering figure who emerged from it. She opened her mouth to scream at him on impulse, but suddenly she was pinned to the bed, a large hand covering her mouth.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," he hissed, his weight pressing them down into the soft feather mattress, a trapping of opulence from a different time. She attempted to scream a volley of expletives, but he held her mute until she stilled beneath him. She noticed a slight blood spatter upon his blue sweater, and felt a slight if not untimely tinge of disappointment that it met ruin-the color suited him to perfection.

His voice came quiet and deadly, remembering her venom of earlier, and in no mood for games this night. "I will tell you this once, Sookie Stackhouse, so listen close. Long ago, when I still walked this earth a mortal man, werewolves slaughtered my clan. My father, my mother, my infant sister, my lover. Everyone I held dear in that life.

"I have hunted these foul branded wolves my whole vampire life, killing them when I find them, but never reaching the master. He always eluded me, until now. I have found Russell Eddington is the ring leader of their freak show, and I intend to bathe my sword in his blood for it. I have waited too long to let anything stand in my way. Do you understand?"

Sookie tried to speak, but his palm still prevented intelligible conversation. Cautiously, he lifted the muzzle, brushing her lips with his fingertips as he retreated. "Why are you telling me this?" Sookie whispered, trying to ignore how their bodies seemed to settle in one line with very little trouble.

Eric paused, searching her expression, seeking some mirror for his own mysterious impulse. Why _had _he bothered? Why couldn't he just let Russell keep her sequestered for now, let him use her for his own means until the right moment to strike?

Maybe she kept secrets well, but going to her still smacked of a near careless risk.

Perhaps it had been the way his heart fell to his feet, a searing pain clawing at his insides, when she'd spat those ugly words his way.

_ I hate your fucking guts, Eric Northman!_

He wouldn't have it. He couldn't stand the thought that it might be true.

Eric got a grip of himself, answering snidely, "Because you are so very honest, and so used to knowing what everyone around you is thinking, you have no aptitude for recognizing the merits of deceit in certain situations. Nor do you seem to have any sort of faith in me."

It was Sookie's turn to pause.

Since when did he give a damn, what she thought of him?

She wondered if she'd hurt him, with her insults, the way she'd ranted and screamed. She'd _wanted _to hurt him, so badly.

In a secret corner of her heart, she would admit, not for the way he refused to help Bill, but because he'd told her she meant nothing to him.

Something had broken at those words. Unidentifiable, a tiny, delicate bone, kept in the darkest recesses of her soul, had snapped in two under the force of those words. They'd pierced her like a dagger.

"Then why did you say those things, that would make Russell want to keep me? He might have let me go. He could have let Bill and I go…" She feared for her lover, yet felt certain he lived yet. After sharing blood there had always been a strange little light at the back of her mind, her connection to his life. And though faint as ever, his bulb still glimmered.

Eric's large hand went to cup Sookie's cheek, wiping away fresh tears she could not hold back. "Because, lover," he explained gently, "If you are not valuable to them, they will hurt you for the fun of it, and I will not have that. Russell will not take you from me too."

There was a resolve in his tone, a ragged tenacity.

Sookie realized Eric categorized her with his other human loved ones, from so long ago, and her heart swelled for it.

"So when you said no one plays the King of Mississippi and gets away with it…you meant everyone _but _you."

Eric spared a grin, but it was the ghost of his usual arrogant curl of lips. "I will have my revenge."

"Revenge gives no warmth, Eric," Sookie cautioned, at seeing the bloodthirsty glint in his eye. She could _feel _his hatred for the vampire who slaughtered his family, and it was a deep and powerful thing, cold as the grave and black as pitch. It was a gaping hole, and Sookie knew just Russell's death would not fill it.

"Oh. So you want him to live, then?" Eric snarked. She could spare him the moral drivel. There was no turning back.

"Whose blood is on your shirt?" Sookie asked apprehensively. He'd disappeared with Russell, and a small part of her feared that it might have been Bill's. If Lorena couldn't bring herself to kill her child, then Eric certainly could do the deed to prove his loyalty.

He was already pretending to be a homosexual, which Sookie found highly amusing, considering the all but obvious erection pressing into her thigh. Were there not more pressing matters at hand, she would have been furious.

"I killed three guards at the queen's palace," Eric explained disinterestedly. "Russell has blackmailed her into matrimony, to secure her lucrative territory. The bitch has framed me for selling vampire blood-"

"You _were_ forcing Lafayette to sell V!" Sookie interrupted.

"At my Queen's behest," Eric snapped. "Now the magister has Pam, and waits for me to deliver…" He decided he didn't want to admit he'd been all too willing to give up Bill for torture and staking, to save he and his child's skins.

"Deliver what?" Sookie demanded, with a feeling she already knew.

"Someone. Anyone. I hadn't decided yet," he lied smoothly. "This has been a nightmare moving at the speed of a hurricane."

"What will happen to Pam?"

A haunted shadow passed over Eric's eyes, and Sookie suddenly understood that Eric's whole world now teetered in the balances. He'd lost his maker not long ago, and to lose a favorite child too? A dark sorrow would await him, if not the sun itself.

"It's going to be ok," she tried to soothe him, running fingers through his hair. She craned her neck to press lips to his forehead, and for just a moment, Eric allowed himself to take comfort in her soft touch, her nurturing nature, slumping against her tender little body in a gesture both vulnerable and very uncharacteristic of him.

"You are so young, to think so," he sighed. He'd lived long enough to know that more often than not in the vampire world, things went to hell in a hand basket at the slightest provocation.

Life meant _so little _to their society, and strangely at that moment he mourned it. It was the closest he'd come to understanding Godric's shift from the perfect killer to a man filled with compassion for the humans he'd once preyed upon.

At that moment, he simply couldn't _stand _the waste of destruction, and in seeking some distraction from the trials ahead, he pressed his lips to Sookie's, taking her mouth with a gentle kiss.

"Eric, not…"

_ Now. _

The protest died on her lips, slain by desire and more frightening, something less identifiable than lust. His mouth upon hers evoked a burning to wash over her skin, shivers to run the length of her spine. She arched into him, craving more, and with enthusiasm Eric took a fistful of golden hair in his large hand, holding her to him.

Surprisingly, it was Eric who drew back first, fangs gleaming in the low light. Iceberg blue eyes searched her expression, but for what sign Sookie did not know. "If Bill has met his demise, Sookie, you will be left alone in this nest of vampires without an ally. I will fight for you, lover, but you must not work against me, even as I appear to behold you as merely a plaything. The pretense will be our secret, and our secret alone."

Her lip quivering, Sookie shook her head in denial. Things _couldn't _come to that, she wouldn't accept it. "No, Eric, he can't be dead."

"I hope you're right."

Surprisingly, Eric meant it. He didn't want to win this way, for that annoying vampire to meet an inglorious end at the hands of his crazed maker. Bill too had been a brave warrior in his day, if _war _was what one chose to call this modern affair involving the cowardly use of guns, and not the teeth-gnashing truth found in real hand to hand battle. How can you weigh the worthier of two men, when Mr. Colt has made them all equal?

The Viking still could not quite shake the belief, the _hope_, that some sort of Valhalla lay in wait for those who were worthy. Those who died with their swords in their hands, a savage cry upon their lips. _That _would be a death worth living for, in his reckoning.

Eric wanted to steal Sookie away and rub the victory in Bill Compton's face, but there was no glory for anyone in simply claiming Bill's widow.

"We have to help him," Sookie insisted. He was all alone with that psychopath in the slave quarters, and the thought turned her stomach.

Eric raised to a crouch above her, and Sookie fought not to stare at the impressive bulge that strained against his jeans. "It's daylight, Sookie, I can move about here for a while longer, but I can do nothing outside this house. I will burn as surely as Godric did."

Something clenched in Sookie at the memory of Eric's maker going up in white hot flames, and the image of Eric doing the same caused her to clasp his arm, checking to make sure he was still real, still with her.

"There isn't a secret passage or something going out to it? Like this one?" She gestured to the panel ajar at the far wall, and Eric shook his head.

"There werewolf I glamoured to find this one did not mention it."

"Then you've got to let me out of here, so _I _can try to save Bill!" She fought to keep her voice down in her excitement. Every second seemed precious now.

"It would be unwise. There are werewolves guarding the premises all over, Sookie. You wouldn't get far."

"They're nasty and stupid and I can out fox them."

Her venom for the branded weres brought a dark smile to Eric's well-formed lips. How sweet, something they could share.

"They're stronger and faster," he argued. He didn't want her at their mercy with the vampires asleep; who knew what they might do? "Besides, even if you found Bill alive, how would you move him?"

Sookie pressed her lips in thought, too stubborn to give up. "Wrapped in a blanket," it dawned on her, as her fingers fisted in the expensive comforter. "Would that block the sun?"

Eric's displeased silence indicated to her that it indeed _would._

"And moving the body?" he asked more calmly, more and more resigned that with his guidance, she could solve this puzzle past his ability to refute.

Sookie bit her lip on this one, willing her brain to churn out its finest work. It was true that she was a small woman, and Bill was a foot taller, muscular, _dense_ in the way only vampire bodies were. Made of stronger stuff than mere mortals.

She could drag him, but it wouldn't be fast.

She could hope to find a wheelbarrow in a shed maybe, but couldn't count on it.

Why did she have to have the power of reading people's thoughts? Why couldn't she have been born with super human strength instead?

A new idea dawned on her, both hope and apprehension filling her eyes.

It could work, but it would not come without consequences.

She looked to Eric, who attempted to hide the sudden hunger in his eyes. It was quite apparent he'd come to the conclusion too.

Something he'd wanted, from the very first night he laid eyes upon her.

Maybe the werewolves were fueled by vampire blood, but they could even the score. Sookie could be too.

"If I do this, will you let me go to him?" she asked, obviously a little frightened of the idea of voluntarily drinking Eric's blood.

Eric's mouth suddenly went dry with the thought, and so he simply settled for nodding.

"Fine. Then how do we go about it?"

Eric drew a breath that rattled with anticipation; he tried to hide it, knew his pleasure would infuriate her, that it was _wildly _inappropriate. But he simply _couldn't help himself. _He crawled to the head of the bed, leaning against the headboard. She stared at his outstretched hand as though he offered her poison, though she knew the nectar that pulsed through his veins would only make her strong, and beautiful, and more perfect than merely nature's design could muster.

After what seemed an eternity passed between them, Sookie finally took his proffered paw, and he drew her to straddle his lap. He repressed the urge to comment upon her luscious thighs, or the intoxicating weight of her body settled atop him. He pulled her closer, so that she could feel his erection, their only barrier a bit of denim and the flimsy silk of her steadied herself with a hand on his chest, pressing her eyes closed to the desire burning in her eyes, threatening to consume her whole.

"Eric, please don't…" she begged, and the unsaid hovered in the air. _Please don't seduce me. _She would take his blood to save Bill, but time ran thin. Sadly, so was her control.

"Just this once..."

Attempting to behave himself, Eric pulled a knife from his pocket, and flipped it open with a flick of his thumb. Sookie gasped as he pressed the point to his jugular, just this side of breaking the skin. She winced at the thought of latching on to a wound at his throat, flashing back on a memory of him tearing out that werewolves jugular, spraying blood all over her rug.

"Do we have to do it like _that_?" She placed her hand over his, pulling the blade back.

"I thought you would prefer it to be quick?"

Her expression conveyed quite the other. Sookie's throat contracted unhappily, and she still couldn't quite wrap her head around it.

"You'll bleed even more all over your beautiful shirt…" she fished for excuses, and Eric smiled incredulously.

"You like it?" Somehow, even at a time like this, he could tease her.

Sookie had the grace to be embarrassed for the both of them, suddenly refusing to meet his eyes, which glittered with laughter. "It's a nice color for you..."

Eric barely suppressed the urge to burst out laughing, with that strange pure delight Sookie inspired in him. She made him laugh, and that was a rare and precious thing indeed. "Then after we survive this nightmare," he promised, "I will be sure to buy underwear in this color, _just_ for you."

Just the thought sent a hot blush burning up her neck and across her face. He could distract her from anything, it seemed, with the thought of his glorious body. Even a emergency, while her boyfriend's life hung in the balance. "Can we get on with this?" she demanded.

Eric regarded her for a moment, trying to decide how exactly he could go about this without her objecting. To her human mind, exchanging blood seemed unnatural and grisly, and so he decided to cloak it beneath the veil of something far more pleasant. Cupping the back of her head, Eric drew her into a gentle kiss, and she did not fight him. A moment of almost _pain _accosted the vampire, for the easy way she accepted his kisses, if only she just allowed herself to _let go._

If this was her reaction to him with just a mouthful of his blood in her, what would this second bonding do to her?

But her thoughts and fears soon faded to a fog, as Eric's lips worked their magic upon hers. As she opened her mouth to him, he sliced into his own tongue with a fang, and his thick sweet blood poured into her mouth as he explored her. The taste was extraordinary, nothing like the bland metallic flavor of human blood, or even Bill's blood, and with every swallow she found she craved another. With an arm around her waist Eric pulled her flush against him, groaning as her legs went to circle his waist, a wanton sound escaping her that raised his blood to boil.

It took every ounce of self control not to throw her down on her back once more, as her strong thighs squeezed about his middle. He could feel his blood taking effect upon her already, in her legs and arms, her grip upon the headboard behind them that creaked with age under the strain. She whimpered as he tore himself away, and the sight of his blood trickling from the corner of her mouth tantalized him beyond description.

Sookie breathed deeply, the tingling rush of Eric's blood roaring through her veins, filling her with strength and power. Eric's expression of hunger shifted to surprise as just faintly in the dim light, Sookie began to glow. "What _are _you?" he sighed, fingertips ghosting over her skin. It was as though her skin were made of moonlight; it was the most beautiful phenomenon he'd seen in centuries.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?"

And then Sookie beheld her skin, and cried with disbelief at the sight. Just a fraction of Eric's strength filled her, and she felt she could tear down walls with her bare hands. "What did you do to me?"

He hoped he hadn't overcooked her in his inability to stop their pleasure, for one.

But she would know, because the sunlight would burn excruciatingly.

Stubborn girl probably wouldn't pay any attention to it, either, in her quest to save Bill.

Eric wished he could keep her there with him a bit longer, forget about the world outside, but trials they couldn't possibly imagine remained for them both. "We should go," whispered Sookie, leaning her head against Eric's collarbone, trying to grab the reins of his thousand year old blood running wild through her system. She dismounted the Viking reluctantly, and expected her legs to be jelly from the experience. But they were sure and solid beneath her, and Sookie threw up her arms, stretching as far as she could with the glory of it all. She suddenly wanted to run, just wanted to _move_, to burn off some of this fantastic energy in any way she could.

"How do you feel?"

It had been some time since Eric shared his blood with a human; making pets was not a habit of his. But never before had anyone _ever _responded in such a way to the power of his blood, and he suspected he only enhanced whatever spark already waited to _burn _inside her.

"Like Superwoman," she drawled, accent thick as molasses. "Like I could jump over a building."

"Good," said Eric, guiding her towards the secret passageway. "You just might need to. It's not too late to change your mind."

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" accused Sookie, her fire returning.

Good, thought Eric. Let her get her blood up for the fight. Just as he had prepared for battle, so long ago. He watched her stride confidently in front of him through the dim corridor, full of the power of his blood, and her own particular brand of stubborn confidence, resolved completely in her task to save Bill.

Between Russell's wolves, Lorena, and this little telepath, Eric decided he would be betting on Sookie.

**A/N: I apologize for skipping an episode, but nothing inspired me last round. But this Sunday's was **_**delicious. **_**lol. So, I hope this one makes up for the lapse! Thank you for reading and dropping a comment, everyone!**


	5. Bait

**Part V: Bait**

Eric knew immediately when Sookie stormed through the front doors of Fangtasia; he could feel her, somewhere between his head and his heart. All the bond, he told himself, even as he knew it was quite the lie. He'd become so _tangled _in the telepath, he could hardly tell where his own desire for her ended and the magic of the bond began.

He could feel her confusion and her rage, her determination to get to the bottom of this adventure once and for all.

The telepath burst through the doors of his office, Pam in tow, who quite clearly allowed Sookie to pass in hopes the stubborn little blond could talk some sense into him, where she had failed.

Apparently, she thought his farm on Örrland to be a windy shithole, and wanted no part of it.

"She insisted."

"She always does," he sighed, straightening up in his chair to regard the intruder. She wore cutoff shorts and a Bontemps football t-shirt, her hair pulled back into a ponytail, yet still the sight of her caused a pang of hunger deep in his gut.

The sound of the door shutting signaled they were alone, though neither Sookie nor Eric could break locked gazes to glance Pam's exit. Something in the intensity of Eric's gaze signaled an alarm to Sookie, alerted her that perhaps she would find all she feared here.

"What did you mean, when you said you're not going to be around much longer?" she demanded, lithe young body strung taut with a tension she hadn't quite decided what to do with. Around the Viking, her desires always seemed to lay somewhere between the extremes of sex and violence, though luckily she'd managed not to give in to either of those. Either way, she wasn't sure she would survive it.

She hated Eric's guts, right? He'd been nothing but a manipulative bastard from the start.

Then why did the weight of the world seem to center upon her chest, at the thought of his demise? Unconsciously her hand curled over her heart, as she searched his expression for answers. A clue. A hint. A tell.

Reassurance, that he was just being dramatic. That he truly was immortal.

"Do you really care, Sookie Stackhouse?" he demanded, almost flippant, completely incongruent with the pain apparent in his eyes. "Will you weep for me, as you did for Godric?" Slowly he rose from his chair, gliding to stand before her, towering above her.

A stab of panic took Sookie, right above the heart, at the use of the word _will_, and not _would. _A certainty, not a possible future.

"_No_," she spat, and the corner of his mouth curled in a bitter half smile.

Of course she wouldn't.

She detested him, and she'd told him as much. Any redeeming quality Godric possessed before his greeting the sun, Eric did surely did not share, he insisted to himself. Compassion. Sacrifice. Love. None of these things had a place in his brutal life.

Looking down at Sookie, he suddenly wasn't so sure.

An indescribable pain clenched in his chest, and he couldn't be sure if it was his emotion, or hers.

"I thought as much."

Seeming of its own volition, his hand raised to stroke her cheek lightly, fingertips tracing the soft skin. For a moment her eyelids fluttered, nearly persuaded to surrender, before the telepath remembered herself, pushing his hand away. "What I mean, Eric, is that I will not cry for you, because you are _not _going to die."

She punctuated her decree with two fingers pressed sharply against the center of his chest, and the Viking's smile widened at her pure audacity. Who else would dare, but Sookie? Such a fiery soul she possessed, and he certainly _wanted _her for it.

Loved her?

Who could say. It had been so _very _long.

His hand closed over hers, pressing it over his heart, and she could feel his pulse as it began to thunder in time to her own. "Russell Eddington is two-thousand years my elder. Chances are, Sookie, that I will not prevail. This is probably _goodbye_, lover."

A bolt of fear ran wild down Sookie's spine. "No! Don't you _dare_ give up this easily, Eric Northman! You will fight him, and do something scathingly clever and underhanded, like you always do! You will defeat him!"

"Easy for you to say. But you are so very, _achingly_, young. Happy endings are so far and few between, one learns over the centuries." Once upon a time, she'd thought Eric's death _would _be a happy ending, but at that moment the very thought filled her with dread. "So it is the time to kill regrets, the night before a battle. Kiss me, Sookie, so that I may strike my largest from the list of things I would have liked to have done, before my true death."

She attempted to backpedal as he leaned down towards her, but he was upon her in less than a moment, one long arm wrapping around her wasp waist, drawing her close and lifting her to him. She also tried to lean back and away, hands pressed against his chest, but he soon quashed that too by cupping the back of her neck, pulling her lips to his. The Viking crashed upon her, kissing her with a tender voracity that sent thrills of adrenaline rushing through her body, screaming down the halls, and rattling all the windows.

Still, on principle, she pushed against him.

Sookie found her resistance had little to do with Bill, and a lot to do with the fact that she wasn't ready to cede the argument yet. And judging by the skill of his mouth, she imagined he'd won arguments with women before with his experienced charms.

Soon, he quashed her qualms as the exploration of mouths went on, Eric's tongue delving into the warm recesses between her lips, leaving no area unexplored. Clever fingers tore her hair band away, sending the mass of golden silk to swing down around her shoulders, and he grabbed it by the fistful, enjoying its softness slipping through his grasp.

It was only in the human necessity for breath that Sookie managed to draw away, and she gasped for oxygen as a woman who'd been drowning.

"You are unbelievably sweet," sighed Eric raggedly, resting his forehead against hers as he too drew in a shuddering breath.

"You're _not_ going to die," Sookie insisted back, her small hand resting upon the side of his neck. The blade of her thumb stroked his jaw line absently, and he groaned for that simple touch, unable to resist leaning down for another round of tantalizing kisses.

"This isn't enough," he growled under his breath, almost speaking to himself. "One night could never be enough, to slake my lust of you. Not, one year, not one century..." Sookie cried out as she suddenly found herself pressed into the wall, Eric holding her aloft with hands cupped beneath her derriere.

"Wait!" she protested, even as his lips grazed her neck, his mouth making mincemeat of her capability to reason. "Bill- -"

"You can't trust him," Eric snarled. "Surely you see that by now?"

"Put me down." She squirmed against him, but the Viking would not relent.

"Do you want the truth?"

At that moment, caught in the electric blue of his eyes, Sookie couldn't be so sure. But defiantly, she raised her chin to the vampire. "Yes."

Eric set her down on the ground once more, though he continued to loom, leaning upon hands on either side of her head. "He was sent by the queen to collect you into her service, Sookie. He's been playing you for a pawn all along."

"You're lying," insisted Sookie, her head shaking back and forth. A sick feeling spread from her core to her fingertips, her knees suddenly weak. At the moment, she felt grateful for the wall she leant upon.

She feared he wasn't. There was a sincerity to his tone, a strange and new note she'd never beheld before in Eric. She feared this was the way he behaved, when he told the absolute and ugly truth.

"No, Sookie, and I did not know of his mission. But he let two psychopaths beat you within an inch of your life, so he could later pour his blood down your throat, and begin the process of binding you to him."

"Not unlike the way you yourself tricked me, not so long ago."

Eric smiled slightly with the memory of her hot little mouth sucking bullets from his chest.

"I did it to even the playing field. But Bill? On orders. Deception most pure. I'm sorry, Sookie, but your love with Bill Compton is a lie."

At that moment, Sookie lost the will to stand upright, and began sinking down the wall, tears burning in her eyes. But Eric wouldn't have that, and he pulled her into his arms, crossing the room to his office chair, depositing her into his lap. He expected her to start screaming at any moment, probably at him, her favorite reaction under duress, but the telepath merely melted against the solid rock of his body, crying, but quietly, tucked beneath his chin.

"You deserve better," was all he said. He did not press his advantage, did not demand she switch sides. He merely held her, while ruminating on his own problems, and it was almost too sweet to stand.

She was not as shocked by the news, however, as one might expect.

For some time, she'd wondered at Bill swooping in so late to the rescue that fateful night, and the amount of blood he'd given her. If just a drop could induce such torrid dreams of Eric, then why couldn't several mouthfuls simulate true love?

It all left Sookie wondering what in her world _was _real?

The Viking below her certainly didn't feel like fantasy, nor did his long fingers combing through her hair in slow, soothing strokes.

And Russell Eddington was _quite _real. He was the imminent threat they needed to be thinking about at that moment, not her fucked up love life.

"What would the queen want with me?" she questioned.

"Your blood. There are legends of fae blood, claims that it can make a vampire immune to the sun's rays. I don't know if it's true, but the mere possibility was enough for her to send Compton after you."

"So we can assume Eddington would be interested in me as well."

"I wont' let him have you," Eric growled, and Sookie loved the way the rumble traveled from his chest to vibrate through her own body. It was a primal thing that appealed to the lizard part of her brain, and she found herself sinking closer to him.

"To the contrary," said she, her pulse skipping in her veins from fear, fear of what she was about to propose.

It could be a perfect solution, yet there would be so much opportunity for everything to slide out of control. But that couldn't be helped. Their lives were already on the line, especially Eric's.

And though she didn't completely understand it, she acknowledged that the thought of a world without him in it seemed grim indeed.

Eric pulled back, regarding Sookie curiously. "What do you mean?"

"We're going to bait the fucker in," she said sweetly, wiping away her tears, knowing she looked like hell and regretting it with this beautiful vampire before her. "You'll promise him a taste of my blood. He's already gone off the deep end. We'll distract him with the promise of day-walking, and when he's not looking you can kill him."

The Viking raised an eyebrow at her proposal. He'd thought of a similar solution, but in his reluctance to use her, decided against it, much to Pam's chagrin. His well formed mouth curled with pleasure for her deviousness, and she found herself on the receiving end of yet another toe-curling kiss, Eric bending her backwards over the arm of the chair in his enthusiasm. "My brave little Sookie," he sighed against the shell of her ear, his tongue darting out to tease her lobe. "Perhaps you will be salvation for us both."

"I'm _not_ yours."

How was it that protest seemed to come weaker and weaker with every repetition?

**A/N: Thank you everyone for your interest and awesome feedback, you make my day! **


	6. A Choice

**Part VI: A Choice**

Sookie stood in her doorway in a pretty yellow sundress, regarding the vampire before her with a mixture of apprehension, and broken love. Thunder rumbled in the distance, echoing the tremors that rocked her heart.

Yes, she loved Bill Compton, but she trusted him about as far as she could throw him. After what Eric had told her, of his mission from the queen, and the way he'd dumped a few cup-fulls of his blood down her throat nearly the first night they met…

Life could never be the same.

There was love, but also, too much doubt. She'd been so certain before. That Bill would be her rock. That they could be happy together, someday, after the dust settled.

Naïve.

She'd believed in she and Bill's love, with the fierce loyalty one only can in a first lover.

But she was making up for all that.

It had been her plan, her deviousness, and she and Eric's stellar performance that felled Russel Eddington. Sir Laurence Olivier, eat your heart out.

"Invite me in, Sookie, and I'll explain everything. You're in danger, and there are things you must know."

Suddenly, the air changed, a silent but forceful _pop _that pressed against Sookie as the fallout from an explosion.

She'd thought lightning struck the yard, until noticing Eric stood in the driveway, covered in concrete, and strode up her front porch steps with long, purposeful strides. A vampire on a mission. He did not appear pleased.

"Things, such as you tried to kill me, Bill? Buried me under two tons of concrete to keep your secrets hidden?"

The wind picked up, Sookie's skirt pressed against her legs, as her life changed before her very eyes. The rain would come soon, she could taste its certainty in the air.

Bill whirled to face his sheriff, a vampire he should have deferred to, but instead met head on with a wild defiance. "You have tasted her, and cannot be trusted," Bill hissed, only to find himself slammed against the post of the front porch, long fingers wrapped about his throat.

"You are the one who is not to be trusted," growled Eric, fangs bared. "I am in my rights to kill you now for your treachery." A cold fire burned in Eric's eyes, and in that moment Sookie felt certain the Viking held every intention of doing so. Slowly, his fingers began to close upon Bill's throat.

Eric still felt raw from the battle with Russell, all his hatred and anger still coiled within him, seeking more outlets.

Somehow, he'd expected this consuming rage to _dissipate_, after triumphing over his enemy, the vampire he'd been hunting since his mortal lifetime in the ground by his hand.

But the black hole inside bayed hungry for more blood, and Bill Compton stood within his grasp, another rival he'd ached to end since the excuse for a vampire set foot in his area.

"Eric!" Sookie cried out.

A crack of thunder exploded above them, lightning highlighting them all in an unearthly blue light.

For all Bill had done, Sookie still could not find it in her heart, to decide he deserved a final death. Even if she no longer wanted him, still, she would give her compassion.

Her plea fell on deaf Viking ears, and Sookie raced forward, latching herself to Eric's arm. The concrete rasped against her touch, but she dared not let go. She could feel the tension in his arm, the unfathomable strength, and the animal desire to destroy something weaker than him.

"Eric, _please_, don't kill him," she begged, and the tall vampire blinked, seemed to emerge from a place inside where storms raged over his soul. This small woman pulled him away from the tempest, her soft voice calling him back to sanity.

This was his world, this place of darkness and death.

But somehow, she ambushed him with her light, warmed his frozen heart in a way most unexpected. "_Please_," she persisted, tugging at the vampire who towered over her. "Show mercy. Just send him away from us, Eric. Just make him _go away._"

Eric snarled, his fingers tightening ever so slightly upon Bill's throat. He could see it in the southern vampire's eyes, that he _expected _death now. That any other sheriff would see him torn to shreds for daring such a thing, for failing such an assassination.

But Sookie thought Eric to be different. Thought him _capable _of human compassion. Almost as an experiment, the Viking slowly wrapped his mind around the idea, the temptation to prove Sookie right.

_Send him away from__** us**_, she'd said.

_Us_. One word, filled with so much possibility. A whole future written in two mere letters.

She, and he.

A telepath, and a vampire.

With contempt, Eric threw Bill down into the yard, sending him rolling. "If you ever return to Louisiana," the sheriff quietly warned, "I _will _kill you. Now, get out of my sight." Bill glared, for a moment, seeming frozen.

He'd been allowed a second chance, a thing he'd never expected.

Bill knew he owed his life not to Eric, but to the small telepath who stood beside him, still gripping the Viking as though he might tear away at any moment.

"And I want my phone back!" Eric called to Bill's retreating form.

A moment passed, two, of near silence around the farmhouse, and then the rain broke. It fell in a torrent around the house, blurring the world in a curtain of water. It felt as though they stood upon their own little island, a boat amidst the deluge.

Sookie still had not let go of Eric's arm. The weight of loss settled upon her, the reality of the events just passed before them. Tears formed in her eyes, streamed down her cheeks, but she did not sob.

In all likelihood, she would never see Bill again. He'd tricked her. He'd used her. She'd nearly fallen into the trap, but fate and a Viking tripped up his plans. At times, she'd been uncertain of whose side the vampire before her stood upon - - as it turned out, he'd been in her corner all along.

"Are you alright?" he asked, and couldn't remember the last time he'd asked such a question, genuinely caring about the answer.

"Yes," she answered, wiping her eyes, and meant it. The world turned round more than once for her, that day. The world was shifting, fast. Suddenly, nothing seemed familiar.

She kind of liked it.

Of all the things Sookie Stackhouse could have said at that moment, it was the most practical that escaped her mouth. Her heart thundered in her chest and she didn't quite know what to make of it, what to _do _with the lightning that galloped through her veins with the promise of possibility, with this body standing so close to hers.

"Look at you," she almost scolded, laying her accent on _thick, _suddenly the perfect southern hostess. "You're a big hot mess, Eric Northman. Come inside and get cleaned up. It's the least I can do."

"I'll track concrete all through your home." He couldn't be sure why he protested, when he wanted more than anything at that moment, to escape into the warmth of Sookie Stackhouse and her safe haven of a farmhouse.

"Then take this off." Her small hands moved to push his leather jacket from his shoulders, and with a thrill of forbidden joy he let her undress him, the garment falling to _plop _upon the boards of the porch. "And this." Her fingers brushed bare skin as she lifted his t-shirt up his torso, and the vampire could not suppress a shudder. If Sookie noticed, she pretended ignorance, and the vampire stooped to help her pull the shirt over his head. His teeth clamped around any innuendo he might have made - all too easy, for one - and another? Something changed between them, that very moment. Ever so slightly, the world shifted below them. A new trust building, something fragile, rare, and wonderful - he dared not disturb its growth.

"And those," continued the telepath, pointing towards his boots. She pushed him to perch upon the railing, and knelt down herself to unlace them, pulling the heavy footwear away.

The Viking sat before her, only jeans and underwear remaining. At long last, Sookie seemed conscious of it, a slight rush of blood bringing a charming color to her cheeks. "And?" asked Eric, a half smile tugging upon the corner of his well-formed mouth.

Sookie paused, about to lose her nerve, but for the playful challenge glinting in the vampire's eyes. "And the rest," she demanded, hands on her hips, before turning her back. It was not the thought of seeing Eric stripped down that embarrassed her, but the lust that warmed her from the inside out at the thought. It struck her as a wave, and for a moment Sookie felt uncertain of the ground beneath her feet.

When the jeans fell into the pile with the rest of the gritty clothes, Sookie waved for Eric to follow her inside. She'd never rescinded Eric's invitation, and happily he followed her upstairs, through her bedroom, and into the master bath. "Sit," she instructed, and in nothing but a bright red pair of boxer-briefs, the vampire lowered himself upon the closed lid of the toilet. He watched Sookie fuss around the bathroom, stepping over his long legs to begin running a hot bath.

"Bubbles?" he asked as she dumped a capful of soap into the steaming hot water.

"We need to talk, and I have a feeling I'll find that difficult without them."

"Hmm. I find you puritanical Americans, and your need to deny the existence of the human body in its entirety as a natural thing, endlessly amusing."

Sookie smiled, raising an eyebrow as she filled a bowl with hot water, dipping a washcloth inside. "After all we've been through, you think I'm a puritan?" she asked incredulously, daubing at the concrete upon his face, wanting as little as possible of the stuff to end up in her plumbing.

"I still find you…innocent," Eric confessed. "But I think I like that about you, Sookie. Your soft, good heart. Your light draws me out of a darkness that has lasted centuries."

A furrow appeared between her brows, as bright pink but clean skin began to appear from behind the gray crusty mask of concrete. "You're just used to fangbangers without a shred of decency in them. But they're just lonely, Eric. Underneath it all, everyone's just so _lonely_."

As she finished wiping the concrete from his hands, Eric intended to draw her to him, but she gestured towards the tub. "Alright, in you go." So instead, Eric stood from his seat, divesting himself of the red undergarment. This time, Sookie did not turn her back, but nor did she look away from the artic blue eyes that bore into her. She did not break their eye contact, until the vampire sat submerged beneath a concealing layer of fluffy white bubbles.

"So tell me what happened," requested Sookie, perching on the side of the tub. "What did you do with Russell?"

Eric lathered shampoo into his hair, disappearing beneath the surface of the water to rinse before answering her question.

"I buried him beneath fifteen feet of concrete," he finally answered.

A heartbeat passed, two, three, as an uncertain fear spread through Sookie's veins.

"_Alive_?"

"More or less. He will sit there, helpless, unable to move, grieving for his beloved in his concrete prison. I found it a fitting revenge."

"That's fine and well, until he _escapes_, Eric! Concrete isn't _permanent_, buildings get torn up all the time! He'll get free, and this mess will start all over again!" Sookie splashed the Viking in her ire, and Eric found himself wiping water from his eyes.

"I can't stand the thought of him gaining some sort of peace through death," he confessed quietly. "Godric appeared to me. He urged me to forgive Russell, but I cannot. I _will _not." The telltale blood of a vampire tear began to gather at the corner of his eye, and as Sookie reached out to wipe it away the vampire caught her wrist in his hand, long fingers wrapping easily about her limb. Sookie jumped in surprise, and found herself teetering precariously upon the edge, only Eric holding her at bay from plunging into the basin of the ancient claw-footed tub.

The decision lay with him, and Eric found in that moment he hadn't the strength to set her balance to rights. He wanted her there, in his arms, and so he let her fall.

Sookie shrieked as she tumbled into the warm water, the splash sending a wave over the rim to puddle on the floor. "Eric!" came her immediate protest upon surfacing, pushing water and hair from her face.

The vampire rolled his eyes as he pulled her to him. "You're perfectly clothed, Sookie, don't whine."

"But you're not." Despite of it, Sookie found it an easy thing to curl up against Eric's broad chest, the blissfully warm water lapping around them. She found a hollow in his shoulder that matched her head perfectly, as his arms wrapped around her, holding her steady, anchoring her to him. Still, the storm raged on outside, and for a little while they sat in the peace of a quiet house, in a womb of water with the rain tapping upon the roof.

"Godric was right." Her voice came quiet, but broke the silence as a peal of thunder in the small bathroom.

"No."

"You don't have to forgive him, but you should end this, Eric. Let go."

"I can't," insisted the vampire stubbornly.

"You won't. You can't fill the hole your family left with revenge. Not with violence, and hate - - you'll never be satisfied, Eric. You'll never be happy."

"Listen to you, speaking of these things I have lived with for longer than your family has been in existence, as if you could know."

But for the look she paid him, the sage weight in her eyes, Eric perhaps feared more than anything that she _did _know. That he should listen to this little telepath from a backwater town of Louisiana - - that she spoke true things.

"Fill it with something else," she urged him, undeterred. "Find something else to live for. Russell Eddington is _done_. That chapter of your life can be closed now, and you should take the chance to put it behind you."

"Like what?" he grumbled, pulling Sookie to straddle him. One large hand palmed the back of her head, as he demanded, "What should I choose then, Sookie?"

At that moment, her heart thundered in her chest, she felt certain threatening to bruise her ribcage. "You could choose love," she answered quietly, her gaze fixed upon his chin, the handsome cleft upon it. It was the only emotion she could think of, to battle such a consuming hatred that burned within the vampire.

Eric's hands moved to cradle the sides of her face, holding her as an object of precious value. "I could," he agreed. "But the only woman who has interested me in two centuries rejects me at every turn. What am I to do?"

Sookie sighed heavily, her eyes drifting closed as the Viking's fingertips ghosted down her neck, trailing over her shoulders and down her back, to rest upon the curve of her waist below the water's surface.

Her answer came as a whisper, and still thundered in the Viking's ears, loud and significant as a shout.

"Choose me."

At long last, her eyes lifted to meet his, and he sat frozen for an instant, pinned by those clear azure irises, beautiful and deep as the lakes of the fjords.

In his wonder, the vampire nearly waited too long, those beautiful eyes before him filling with doubt. Shaking her head, cursing herself for a fool, Sookie attempted to rise from the water. The attempt was thwarted by a pair of long arms snatching her close, and soft lips pressing to hers in the most wonderful way. "I already have," he sighed between kisses, his mouth gently plying hers in ways that caused her body to ache to slide against him, into him, to become lost in his mouth and hands and great ancient heart. "I chose you the moment you walked through my door at Fangtasia, Sookie Stackhouse."

"Don't let go of me," she sighed as his lips glided down her neck, planting gentle kisses upon the pulse and points beyond. His kisses were a thing not of this world, a distraction that lifted Sookie to a higher plane, piecing her broken heart back together again. He took her to a place where love alone could be enough to live happily. If this feeling could just last, she reasoned dreamily, there would be no more wars. No more fighting, or greed, or unnecessary pain.

It seemed _so real_, more real than anything else. A moment of perfect lucidity, in which this was her place in this world. Here with Eric she could finally feel _whole_.

"I won't," he assured her. "Consider yourself warned."

As Eric plied her with kisses, he decided he would send Alcide back to the site in the daytime. Have the werewolf rip out the concrete, and end Russell Eddington once and for all. Stake him and let the pieces burn.

Happily, drawing Sookie's pretty yellow sundress over her head, tossing it to land in a sodden heap on the floor, the Viking realized he had other things to live for now. Clever fingers glided over young flesh, exploring her every curve and valley, wondering at the perfection in her humanity.

He hoped Godric could be proud of him, at long last. That perhaps he could not find it in his heart to forgive he who so brutally tore his family from him, but Eric could chose to walk a different path. That he could follow Sookie, and her healing light, rather than the usual vampire's road that only led to darker and darker perditions.

**Fin**

**A/N: Ah, redemption, vindication, justice and true love… of course season three couldn't end this way! Haha. But I hope you enjoyed this happy little corner of wishful thinking… cheers, everyone!**


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